The Crescent Moon.

The Morning After.

~Aria~

The knock at the door came, I blinked awake to the hollow ache in my chest, the kind that made it hard to tell where dream ended and memory began. My feet were cold. My skin clammy. And my heart… it was still racing, like it hadn’t stopped since last night.

I got up slowly, padding across the wooden floor, and pushed open my bedroom door just in time to hear Lenore’s footsteps cross the kitchen.

The front door groaned on its hinges.

Then I heard her gasp.

A sound that shattered something small and invisible in the air.

I rushed down the hallway, socked feet silent against the floor, and skidded to a stop when I reached the doorway.

Lenore stood frozen.

And on the porch, curled like a sleeping shadow, was a lifeless cat.

Her cat.

Mittens.

No blood. No signs of a fight. Just a stiff, crumpled body that looked like it had been dropped from the sky. His little chest didn’t rise. His tail didn’t flick.

“Lenore,” I breathed.

She didn’t answer me. Just knelt and scooped him into her arms like maybe—just maybe—holding him could bring him back. Her fingers shook as they curled under his body, brushing away the bits of frost on his fur.

Her face was pale. Still. Too still.

“I—I let him out before bed,” she said. “He always comes back.”

But not this time.

My stomach twisted. My thoughts raced.

Percy.

Now Mittens.

Something was happening.

And it was only just beginning.

Before either of us could say another word, a sound rose from the road. A chorus of voices. Murmurs. Panic. I stepped out farther onto the porch, hugging myself against the chill, and followed the noise with my eyes.

It wasn’t just our cat.

There were more.

Cats. Five. Maybe six. Lying in the grass or on doorsteps. Two in the middle of the street. Lifeless. Torn. Like their lives had been snatched mid-step.

The neighbors were beginning to gather. Faces pale. Voices rising.

“I saw it when I went to get the paper—”

“No blood, just like mine—”

“What kind of creature does this and doesn’t even eat—?”

And then came the siren.

Short. Sharp. Followed by flashing lights as a silver truck rolled up the street.

Black letters were printed on the side:

ANIMAL CONTROL UNIT – Black Hallow DIVISION

A man and woman stepped out. Uniforms. Clipboards. They moved slow, like they didn’t want to be seen panicking.

But their eyes—those told the truth.

They were panicking.

“Everyone, please remain calm,” the woman said. “We’re aware of the situation. We’re here to investigate the reports.”

“Reports?” someone barked from across the street. “You mean the dead cats?”

Lenore stood next to me now, arms crossed, her shoulders stiff with grief and something else—fury.

I didn’t know what made me glance down at my phone. Maybe instinct. Maybe the subtle buzz I hadn’t registered through the noise.

But when I looked, I saw the notification.

BLACK HALLOW HIGH – SCHOOL CLOSED TODAY Classes suspended due to wildlife concerns in town. Stay indoors until further notice.

I showed it to Lenore.

Her jaw clenched.

The pieces were stacking fast now. Too fast.

By midday, the whispers had turned to noise. And that noise turned into movement.

Someone suggested a meeting.

And as if Black hallow ran on some kind of silent current, the community began to gather at the small town hall near the church.

By the time Lenore and I got there, the lot was nearly full. Pickup trucks. Sedans. A couple of motorcycles. Everyone had the same look—tight-lipped, tight-eyed. Grief and confusion woven into one long, unblinking stare.

Inside, it smelled like lemon wood polish and dust. Rows of chairs had been hastily set up facing the small podium. A single microphone stood crooked, its wire looped messily around the base.

Animal Control stood at the front—two officials, clearly not ready for this kind of attention.

They looked like they’d rather be anywhere else.

One of them, a tall man with a salt-and-pepper beard, finally stepped up to the mic.

“First of all, I want to express our condolences,” he began. “We understand that pets are family. We’re here to get to the bottom of this.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“Bottom of what?” a woman near the front snapped. “Something’s out there! And it’s killing animals!”

The officer nodded. “We’ve examined six… deceased pets so far. No immediate signs of poison or trapping. Some show signs of trauma consistent with large animal attacks.”

“Like a bear?” someone asked.

“Possibly,” the officer replied. “Or a coyote. A grey wolf, maybe.”

Lenore stiffened beside me.

“There hasn’t been a grey wolf here in twenty years,” she muttered.

But the officer kept talking.

“We’re putting up trail cameras. We’re working closely with the local wildlife department. For now, we urge residents to keep pets indoors and avoid wooded areas.”

When the meeting ended, the crowd dispersed in a cloud of questions and frustration. No real answers. Just guesses. Bears. Coyotes. Wolves.

But no one mentioned what I’d seen.

No one brought up the shadow.

The silence around it made it feel heavier.

More real.

When we returned home, Lenore buried Whiskers in the garden. I helped her dig. The soil was damp. Cold. It clung to my hands like it didn’t want to let go.

We didn’t speak much.

There wasn’t much to say.

But in the quiet, I made a decision.

Something was out there.

And I wasn’t going to wait around for it to come back.

I was going to find out what it was.

Even if it meant going back into the woods.

Even if it meant facing the boy with the too-knowing eyes.

Because I’d seen the way the trees had swallowed light.

I’d heard the growl that didn’t belong to this world.

And I’d felt something else too.

A calling.

Like whatever it was… had left a mark on me.